


In Seven Days

by lovekaity



Category: Suits (US TV)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Bottom Mike Ross, Consensual Underage Sex, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Extremely Dubious Consent, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Friendship/Love, Harvey Specter is Not an Asshole, Harvey doesn't know, Harvey wants to help, Implied/Referenced Underage Prostitution, M/M, Mike used to have sex with powerful men for money, Mike used to sleep around, Mildly Dubious Consent, Prostitute!Mike, Protective Harvey Specter, Slow Burn, Submissive!Mike, Underage Sex, but i turned it into something sad and elongated and beautiful, hurt Mike Ross, it makes him uncomfortable, mike is sad, since he's a lawyer now he encounters some of them, this was supposed to be a pwp one shot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-06
Updated: 2019-02-18
Packaged: 2019-06-01 08:29:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15139169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovekaity/pseuds/lovekaity
Summary: Harvey knows everything about Mike, he always has. Until he doesn't.Mike has a side of him he doesn't want anyone to know about, a side that eats him up inside. And now, as of late it seems the universe has been working in the favor of those against him. In seven days, Mike encounters people from his past that he didn't ever want to see again.In seven days, Harvey learns everything about Mike. For real this time.





	1. Day 1

Harvey wasn’t one to talk about his mommy issues. In fact, he wasn’t one to acknowledge his mommy issues. Nobody with any kind of issues likes to acknowledge them anyway. 

He holds what’s left of his double shot of Jack in his left hand and stares out of his office window among the tall dimly lit buildings, one leg swung over the other. His eyes scan the acclaimed view but it's the last thing on his mind. He thought it could distract him but he was wrong. 

He can’t quite pinpoint why it’s so hard for him to focus. Usually when family troubles of the past came knocking on the door of his mind, he’d just push it away or he would ignore the knock so to speak. This time was different. This time he couldn’t ignore the knock. It was far too loud. He thought back to earlier that day, when an associate had been on a Skype call with her own mother. The way they’d communicated so well, how conversation seemed to be virtually nothing at all for them. As if it were normal. He guessed it were- normal that is. He wondered what it was like to pick up your phone and Skype your parents. 

God. 

He turned in his chair to face his desk, placing his glass down, the liquor chasing itself back and forth inside at the force. Harvey stared into the glass for a while, his mind going a bit rabid. He thought of the times he'd caught his mother with her boyfriend. He clenched his eyes shut, trying to blink the pictures of his mother's half buttoned shirts and the look of sheer horror in her eyes away. 

Harvey did not need this. 

This was the last thing Harvey needed right now. 

He was meant to close a client in the morning and how the hell was he supposed to do that if all he could think of was what his mother looked like when she got caught fucking him anyway. 

Unless he let Louis handle it. Or Mike. 

Goddamn Mike. Fuck Louis. 

He was Harvey Specter. 

Not them. 

And he didn’t goddamn need them to step in for him when he could do it himself. 

Harvey held his head in his hands for a moment, then ran them down to his neck taking a single moment to breathe. 

He rose from his seat, grabbing his coat and turned once more to the window, humming at the view. He shook his head slightly and then turned to leave. 

When he turned around however, his heart fell deep into his stomach, piercing eyes staring into his own. “Mike.” He inhaled, looking at the man who looked almost as shocked as him. 

“Harvey,” he replied, his eyebrows quirking. “Uh-uhm, sorry. I just was, um,” he held some papers in his hands. His eyes flickered from Harvey's face to the floor. “Sorry for sneaking up on you, I just.. had something to tell you.” 

Harvey stared at Mike for a moment. His eyes zeroed in and he hummed to himself. “What is it?” 

Mike met Harvey’s gaze again, his eyes drowned in something Harvey couldn’t quite put his finger on. “Uh, I won’t be able to make the deposition tomorrow.” 

“What for Emerson Oils?” Harvey crooked an eyebrow. Mike shyly lifted a side of his mouth. “Mike, what… why? I need you there. This is a major suit. If I don’t have your help I don’t know what I’ll do.” 

“Harvey,” he let out a breath then he swallowed thickly. “I can’t. I need a day.” 

“Not on the goddamn Emerson Oils deposition, you don’t.” 

“I’m sorry I just- I,” Mike fell at a loss for words and Harvey looked at him, his eyebrows knit. Mike’s face was distorted with some sort of internal battle. He could tell from the way his eyes chased around the room, desperately grasping for something to say, something that would make sense to Harvey. 

Harvey noticed everything about Mike. 

From the very first moment he laid eyes on him, he took a split second to run his eyes over his face. The cold blue of his eyes, the curve of the bridge of his nose, the tightness of his subtle lips, the shape of his jaw- he was hooked from the first moment. 

He still remembers the way his mouth had curved at the side at the sight of Mike. He’d been the kryptonite he didn't know he needed from the very start. 

Mike was nothing less than his other half. And he knew when the other half of him was distraught. He knew Mike. 

He took a step closer to Mike. “What is it, Mike? What aren’t you telling me?” 

Mike’s lips were tight as he said, “Nothing.” 

“Goddamn it, Mike, don’t lie to me. A day ago you couldn’t stop giving me vital questions for the goddamn deposition, now you look pale even talking about it.” He said, his face contorting in confusion. “Mike. Come on. You can tell me anything. You know that.” 

Mike shook his head slightly, eyes still refusing to settle in one place. "Harvey." He said finally looking at him again. "Never mind. I'll be there." 

"Mike." 

"N-no, I'm sorry I brought it up, I just..." Mike tripped over his words. "I'm fine. I can make it." 

And before Harvey could say anything else, Mike took off, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand in a somewhat hurried walk. Harvey crooked an eyebrow at the man's behavior, himself now at a loss of words. He couldn’t even find his voice to call after him. He wondered deeply what had been wrong with Mike, why he was acting so off. 

Great, another thing to keep him up tonight. 

He took a last look out of his window, then gathered himself, walking out of his office. 

 

\--- 

Donna had met him at the elevator the next morning, giving him the rundown of his intense schedule for the day as he sipped his coffee. 

He'd been able to clear most of his head the night before, but still one question remained. What was eating Mike Ross? 

Harvey tried his hardest to forget about the ordeal until he could get a word in later, but it didn’t work. Whatever was bothering Mike was now bothering him, and because he didn't know exactly what it was, it made him even more frustrated. 

"Haven's waiting for you in your office." Donna said, patting him on the back. "Get it together, close the client then get ready for your deposition." 

"Got it." He replied, taking a generous sip of his coffee before throwing it into the trash. 

He entered his office and his eyes fell upon a tall figure staring outside of his window. What was it about his window that perplexed everyone so? "Doug Haven." 

Haven turned around rather meticulously, cracking his knuckles. The man was about 6"4, taller than Harvey could ever be at this point in his life, and he held some of the most beautiful jade eyes Harvey had ever seen. His hair extended a bit to his shoulders, dark and calculated, one side shoved behind his rather huge ears. “Specter. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.” 

Harvey smiled, making strides over to the taller man then extended a hand to him. “Likewise.” He said, not breaking eye contact for a minute. 

Haven’s eyes ran over Harvey's face for a moment, taking in all of his features. He hummed quietly then adjusted his suit. “I’m ready to finalize the contract.” 

“Likewise, also.” He mused, turning on his feet. He walked over to his desk, freshly printed paper hot to the touch sitting beside his pen cup. Donna was a blessing. “I'll need you to sign a few documents in the case that you don’t have any more questions. It’s the only way you’ll officially be under Pearson Specter Litt as a client.” 

“I’d hope to God that’s the only way to finalize.” He sunk into the sofa, swinging one leg over the other. Harvey crooked an eyebrow, making his way over to him. “It’s just that don’t kiss on the mouth. Although I must say, in this case I view it as a loss on my part.” 

Mimicking Haven’s actions, Harvey sits with an amused look on his face. He placed the contract on the table. “And how is that?” 

He stared back at him, biting his lip for a split second then dug into his breast pocket, retrieving a pen. “I hope you don’t mind I prefer to use my own pen. It would be such a shame if my signature was forged and we had no way of knowing. This way, with a custom one, we do.” 

“Do what you must.” 

Doug straightened himself in the couch, leaning into the table to sign his signature on several pages. Just as he dove to sign the final dotted line, he paused, his body coming to a halt. Then, he looked up at Harvey whom was somewhat startled by the sudden stop. Doug leaned back against the embrace of the chair, a playful smile on his face. “You asked if I had any questions.” Harvey looked at him. “I do.” 

Harvey shifted for a moment then shot, “Then spit it out.” 

"This suit you're facing is about to kick your ass. How do I know that when it does and you're scrambling to pick up the pieces, you won't kick my ass in turn?" 

Harvey didn't even bat an eye. He looked at Doug his face solid, the ghost of a smile on his face. "Meaning?" 

"Are you or are you not going to pack up ship and sail away, hanging me out to dry?" Doug said bluntly. 

Harvey shifted in his seat. "I don't plan on sailing anywhere unless it's up Emerson Oils' ass and up out of their mouth. You've got nothing to worry about." 

"You're awfully confident, Mr. Specter." 

"There's nothing awful about it, Doug." He ran a hand down his suit jacket. 

Doug looked at him with a smug face, then leaned forward. He shook his arm, ready to sign again. His signature was swift and sudden. He closed up his pen and looked at Harvey again before rising off the chair. Harvey followed suit, rising with him. Doug extended his hand to the man. "We'll be in touch." 

Harvey shook his hand firmly, wordlessly agreeing. 

 

\--- 

 

Minutes before the deposition, Harvey was anxiously pacing the office hoping no one noticed. He had never been this stressed out over a goddamn deposition. In fact, although it weighed heavy on him before his conversation with Mike, after they spoke, it came crashing down like the Roman Empire. 

He flexed his fingers just as Mike turned the corner to meet him and they both stared at each other like a deer in headlights. Mike was the first to speak. "I'm sorry about last night." 

Harvey's eyes washed over Mike then he said, "We can talk about that later, it's okay. Are you ready?" 

"Yeah." 

"Good." Harvey looked over his shoulder into the conference room at Jack Emerson and his lawyer. "We gotta go in now." 

When he turned back to look at Mike he saw that Mike was staring at them, too. Harvey saw that of a discomfort on his face although he could see that he was fighting it off. The discomfort and ever dazed emotion dangled in Mike's eyes and in the gape of his mouth and Harvey was reluctant to say anything. Mike blinked, his body letting out a held breath and his shoulders relaxed, his eyebrows knitting slightly. 

His gaze fell then he looked back at Harvey. "Mike-" 

"I'll go in first." He said abruptly beginning his trot past Harvey. 

Harvey grabbed his arm, stopping him in his tracks. "Look, Mike, if you still aren't feeling up to it, all those things I said last night was just me being a jackass. You don't have to do it if you don't w-" 

"Harvey." Mike said, suddenly. "Let's go inside." 

Harvey swallowed. "Yeah. Yeah. Okay."


	2. Day 2; Part One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This contains flashbacks and I uploaded it on my phone so I couldn’t differentiate with bold or italics so when you’re reading please try and pay attention to the past tenses and present so you’ll know what is currently happening and which is a flashback! 
> 
> This chapter does contain depictions and mentions of dubious consent so if you’re not comfortable you don’t have to read but this chapter is vital because it offers insight to the beginning of Mike’s downfall.
> 
> Thank you all for reading! Sorry for the late update! I appreciate all comments and feedback!

The first time Mike ever ran into a corporate bigshot was just after he got kicked out of college.

At that point in his life, Mike was nearly off the deep end. He hated himself and there was no other way to put it. No poetic depth to it. Mike hated himself and the choices he had made.

To be honest, Mike had always thought himself a leader but as of late in that point in time, all he did was follow Trevor. Even against his better judgement, the pit in his stomach whenever Trevor wanted his help, Mike could never say no. It was Trevor. And Mike had a soft spot for his best friend, even when Grammy told him Trevor was nothing but trouble.

He didn’t care much. It was all too conflicting, Trevor’s desires and Grammy’s intuition. What about what he wanted? But then again, Mike didn’t really know what he wanted. All he knew for sure was, being with Trevor, working with Trevor, hanging out with Trevor- it made everything Mike hated to think about go away.

Mike was walking along the strip, half baked, with a certain pep in his step, hands in his pockets when he bumped into the guy. The impact had knocked his hands out of his pockets and to his side and he turned around with a squeamish look.

The guy's face was contorted in that of a snobbish anger as he turned around to look at Mike, his briefcase toppling unto the ground. "Hey, watch where you're going." He'd growled.

Mike stuttered over his words. "I-I'm sorry, I didn’t see you."

The man looked at Mike properly, his eyes closing in on him. He reached to pick up his briefcase and then his face broke into a small smile. "That's alright. Next time just watch where you're going."

"Y-Yeah. Sorry." He'd turned to leave awkwardly, then the man's voice came again.

"Hey, I didn't get your name." He said, stopping Mike in his tracks.

Turning around, Mike looked at the guy. He was dressed in a navy blue three-piece suit that could probably pay Mike's rent for a year. He had salt and pepper hair but no visible aging in his face which made Mike raise an eyebrow. His eyes were sort of slanted in a Dermot Mulroney way. In fact, this guy favored Dermot Mulroney quite a lot. Mike loved Dermot Mulroney. “I didn’t get yours either.”

Amusement played on the man’s face and out he hummed, “Jack.”  
“Mike.”

  
Now, Mike feels his chest tighten as he and Harvey enter the room. Today, he enters first, intent on swallowing his fear head on. It’s just a goddamn deposition.

Jesus Christ. Mike could do this in his sleep.

So he walks in, head semi high and his mind in overdrive. Jack’s lawyer stands first, her kinky hair pulled at the top of her head in a bun and almond brown eyes locked with Mike’s. She extends her glare to Harvey as well before saying, “Hello Mr. Specter and Mr. Ross. How are you both today?”

“I’m spectacular.” Harvey says adjusting his suit jacket.

Mike smiles in a response trying deathly hard not to turn his attention to the body next to her. “You haven’t heard of me, I’m Alexander Peet and I will be representing Mr. Emerson through the course of this suit.”

“Very nice to meet you, Ms. Peet.” Harvey says again. He says something else but Mike can’t hear him. Not when he’s about to break into a fucking cold sweat.

He tries. Really goddamn hard but it’s not enough. “Well.” The gravelly chords of Jack Emerson’s voice booms. “Pleasant to see you again Harvey, under these circumstances it does prove a bit disturbing but nonetheless.”

“Disturbing? Who’s disturbed?” Harvey says with a smile as he sits down Alexander following suit. “The only disturbing thing about these circumstances is how when I destroy your bullshit suit, your candy ass’ll be on the line to my office.”

Jack sighs. “You always did have a way with words Harvey.” He plays with his fingers idly before turning his attention to Mike. It takes a moment and Mike doesn’t know if it’s the intensity of his stare, that feels so familiar and powerful that does it, but he knows that it’s done. He gives in and his gaze meets Jack’s.

Jack takes a satisfied breath and his eyebrow quirks. “And this must be your associate.”

“Mike Ross.” Mike says holding the eye contact. “I have a name.”

“Right.” He hums then directs his attention back to his lawyer. “I’m ready when you are.”

Alexander shifts in her chair, focusing on the two lawyers in front of her. “I’ll start with you, Mr. Specter, seeing that you’ve been at the firm far longer than Mr. Ross.”

Mike doesn’t know what she says next as he stares at Harvey’s figure in the chair next to him. His ever arrogant face contorted in his usual cockiness, fingers gripping the arm rests of the chair and legs crossed among each other.

All Mike can hear is the rush of blood and bubbles and whatever the fuck else is going on in his body because he can’t fucking relax. Not in the same room as him.

 

Sitting across from Jack Emerson in a five star restaurant was not how Mike had planned to spend his evening. In fact, it wasn’t how Mike could ever have seen himself spending any evening.

He was hesitant when Jack had invited him out and even more so when he stared intently at the menu to this De’Maurier’s Palace, biting his lip. The more he went down the list of items that valued more than he and Trevor’s apartment, the more skin his teeth pulled off of his lips. He shook his head involuntarily then a hand came over his.

Mike’s head pitched up and Jack gave him a look. “Order whatever you want.”

“I..I couldn’t.” He chuckled humorlessly. “Does this place even serve just.. y’know, regular burgers? Like, um, a cheeseburger. Maybe f-f-” Then he felt silly for asking. His gaze fell to the plate before him and his mouth jutted involuntarily, almost to frown. “Fries. I’m sorry.”

Jack’s face remained unfazed, amusement coating every inch of it. He ran a finger over Mike’s hand. “What are you sorry for?”

Mike’s eyes snapped back up at him, wide like a cartoon character. “I’m at a five star restaurant asking for a Big Mac.”

He shrugged. “I like Big Mac’s. Do you really want one?”

Mike raised an eyebrow at Jack, eyes running over his face to find a trace of sarcasm. He didn’t find any. “I… I eat Big Mac’s three times a week.”

Jack looked at Mike with a certain twinkle in his eye, one that at the time, Mike thought was a longing to help him. But Mike was wrong about that. Among other things. “Try the chicken Parmesan. It’s casual but tasty. I can request potato slices if you’d like. Or you can eat it with a nice linguini.”

“What do you eat?”

“Steak and potatoes almost everywhere I dine. You can never go wrong with basic dishes. When you start dwelling on things you know nothing about, problems arise.” Jack had said, reaching to take a sip of his Cabernet. Mike looked down at his own glass filled with wine, his mouth running dry. He hated wine.

“Is there any way I can get a water?” He said sheepishly.

“Of course.” He mumbled flinging a hand in the air to call on their waitress.

The young girl looked very bright if her sharpness on her feet was any indication. She smiled subtly before saying, “Hello, good evening Mr. Emerson and Mr. Ross. My name is Justine and I will be your attendant for tonight. Are you ready to order?”

“Yes, good evening, Ms. Justine. I’d like a water for the table first off.” He’d taken another sip of wine and Justine had started scribbling onto her notepad. Mike thought that was weird. It was just water. But then he thought, maybe she just wanted to make sure. “Also some fresh bread and escargots, should do it until you bring along an order of Chicken Parmesan and-” he paused a second, redirecting his attention to Mike.

It took him a moment but then he jumped up to say, “Uh, pasta.”

“Yes, linguini. And for me, steak and potatoes please. Garlic on the potatoes as well as butter and salt. Slide a slice of butter on my steak as well. And another glass of Cabernet. Actually, bring the bottle.” He’d said.

“Is that all for you both?”

“It is.”

“Alright. I’ll be back with your order shortly.”

Jack had hummed at her as she walked away.

 

Now, Mike remembers staring at Jack in that moment. Wondering what it was like to be in a fancy restaurant and not feel out of place. He wondered what it felt like to not bore holes into his palm with his nails from the anxiety of the entire situation.

He wondered what it was like to actually like wine.

“In our time representing Emerson oils we’ve never once withheld information from them.” Harvey’s voice wells back into Mike’s ear.

“Mr. Ross, is that something you yourself can account for?” Alexander looks at Mike with eyes filled with interest. Jack follows suit, focusing on Mike as well.

Mike swallows, internally pulling himself together. “Ah, yes. The, uh, claim that Pearson, Specter, Litt withheld information about previous cases from Emerson Oils in an effort to build means for blackmail is not only untrue but impossible to prove.”

“What if I were to say I had a witness that could attest that during the Whittmore case against Emerson Oils last year, Mr. Specter obtained information from the CEO of Whittmore Enterprises that could’ve landed Mr. Emerson in jail, but he didn’t bring it to Mr. Emerson’s attention?” Alexander says smoothly. “Then would it ring a bell?”

“Bullshit.” Harvey shoots back.

“Harvey,” Mike breathes, shooting him a subtle look before looking at Alexander again. “If you told me that, Ms. Peet, I would say that this deposition is over and I will be seeing you and M-Mr. Emerson in court. I’d also say,” he stands up, Harvey following shortly after. “That’d better be a damn good witness you’ve got. Otherwise, you’ve got a big storm coming. Thank you for your time, Ms. Peet.”

Mike takes one last look at Jack before he makes a move to exit the room, Harvey’s eyes focused on him. Mike had hardly registered Harvey during the meeting. He remembered that before they went in, he wanted to act as normal as possible during the entire meeting and he wanted to make sure Harvey didn’t notice anything off.

He didn’t know how well he did. Once he got into the room it was a cloud of memories and anxiety above him that rained all of the things he’d hoped to keep away from his new life. From the office. From Harvey.

Seeing Jack was… somewhat refreshing. He didn’t even look different when Mike’s eyes locked with his those few minutes ago. He was still Jack Emerson. Mike was the only one who’d changed. Or maybe that’s what he thought.

Jack still looked at him as if he were the Mike he took to dinner each week. As if he were still the Mike who-

“Mr. Ross.” His voice calls. It’s smooth, deep and dominant just as Mike remembers it. Although he never called Mike formally before. It was new. “Could you and I chat for a moment?”

Mike freezes as he reaches for the door handle. He can feel the weight of Harvey behind him and he’s deathly scared to turn around. He clenches his eyes shut for a moment then opens them. Before he can open his mouth or even turn around, Alexander says, “Jack, what else is there you want to-”

“Without our superior counterparts. I imagine that you and Harvey are a package deal but I promise I won’t discuss anything inappropriate dealing with the case.” He cuts her off swiftly. Mike knows he isn’t really asking. Mike also knows that Jack can’t tell him what to do- not anymore.

Mike also can feel the weight of Harvey shifting, so he turns around. “What on earth makes you think that you can speak to Mike one on one when we just held a meeting whereas you could’ve let out whatever the fuck it was you needed to?”

“I don’t know about you, Harvey,” he hums, throwing a leg atop another. “But I prefer not to air dirty laundry out in the open. Not only is it unprofessional but it’s bloody disgusting.” He rolls his eyes and looks at Mike again. His lip curves at one side. “Just a moment, Michael.”

Fuck.

Fuck.

Fuck.

Then Mike nods. Because he doesn’t know what else to do. “It’s fine, Harvey. Let me see what the guy has to say. It won’t be long.” He rests a hand on Harvey’s shoulder to get his full attention. Harvey’s face is uneasy, so he grips his shoulder knowingly.

Harvey shakes his head and mutters a shit before moving to exit, Alexander behind him carrying her briefcase.

When the room is empty, save for the two men, Mike’s chest feels heavy.

“Sit.” And he does.

Jack wears a familiar look of amusement as he twindles his thumbs, staring over all of Mike’s features. “My, my. Look at you. It’s been a long time, Michael.”

He nods. “Five years but who’s counting?”

“We were. Five years, four months and how many days is it now? I know you know, that exquisite brain of yours has always fascinated me to no end.” He purrs.

Mike feels his heart skip a beat. “Thirty eight.” He mutters beneath his breath.  
  
“Ah.”

“D-do you have any real questions about the suit or are you just…” Mike says the rest of the words dying in his throat.

“I am just.” Jack smiles. He clears his throat, toying with the ring on his finger. “It brings me joy to see you here living the life I knew you had in you. The only thing that troubles me is just how long it took for somebody to realize your potential.”

“I’d expect that.” The words tumble out of his mouth before he can stop them and Jack raises an eyebrow. “I was a beacon for you. From the beginning. You saw my potential.”

“I did.”

“My potential to be your whore.” He spits and he doesn’t know where the strength or the audacity to say it comes from. He just knows that he’s in front of Jack Emerson saying what he never had a chance to before. And it feels… refreshing.

For the first time, a piece of Jack falls like a shard of broken mirror on a tiled floor. It shatters before Mike and gives him even more strength. Jack swallows. “You were never my whore, Michael.”

“You used me. You made me feel like we were something. Like we were equals, partners, whatever. Then you showed me what I really was.”

And Mike still remembers it, clear as day.

 

Jack was more forceful that night. He had rushed strokes with less passion and more steam.

He bore his fingers into the curve of Mike’s back as he split him open again and again. Maybe he had a rough day at work, Mike thought. Either way, Jack didn’t want to discuss it, so they didn’t.

When Jack had called Mike to tell him to come over, Mike didn’t know what for. Usually, when Jack called him late at night it was for comfort as Mike knew he got lonely in that big, cold apartment.

Usually they’d stay up on the phone for hours until Jack managed to fall asleep and all Mike could hear was the dull rumble of his snore.

That night was different when he slammed him into the wall before he could even get in properly. It was different as Jack sucked on his neck with more hunger than usual, tugged on his shirt with more force than usual and didn’t even bother to prep Mike.

He’d slicked himself and Mike with lube for a second each, then entered slowly still remembering briefly that Mike was actually a human who could feel things.

It took him no more than thirty seconds to pick up a rhythm and during this fuck, Mike stared up at the ceiling as Jack sweat over him, his body slightly uncomfortable on the couch. He looked up at the ceiling and started wondering through thrusts what he was doing. Was he happy? Was he okay? Was this okay? Was this what happiness meant?

Did he love Jack?

Did Jack love him?

He didn’t know. Not when after every time they had sex he’d take him to dinner. Or to the mall for something expensive. Was this just the way Jack showed his love?

Mike wasn’t complaining about dinners. He loved the food. He loved to eat. And the truth was, living with Trevor, food wasn’t always a guarantee.

But the other gifts? Why did he need a Hermès watch when ones from Burlington cost thirty bucks?

Why did he need Ralph Lauren socks?

Why did he need the five hundred dollars Jack slipped into his jacket pocket for him to find in the morning after a night together?

Jack began to moan in his ear, disrupting his thoughts. He loved to hear Jack moan. It meant he was okay. It meant he was pleasing him.

Mike about what would happen if he stopped pleasing Jack. No more food?

Then, as Mike pondered about what he’d eat the next day with Jack for lunch.

Then, as Jack got a stroke closer to filling Mike up with his come, the lock to the door switched.

They couldn’t possibly hear it any of them. Not over the profanities he was groaning into Mike’s ear or the loud white noise of Mike’s inner thoughts. They couldn’t hear the heels clicking on the tiles.  
They couldn’t hear her keys drop.

They only could hear her scream.

Mike only could see her when Jack hurriedly pulled himself out of him and fell into the ground.

Then, Mike couldn’t hear her screams anymore. Just the sound of his own heart breaking. Right down the middle.

 

“How is she?” He asks.

“Michael, I-”

“Don’t.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I said don’t.”

“I am. I’ve always wanted to get in touch with you to say that I’m sorr-”

“You broke my heart.” His fist clenches underneath the glass table and he fights off tears. He’s at work. “You tore it out of my chest and you threw it on the floor and you danced on it.”

“Michael-”

“Mike.” He swallows. “My name is Mike Ross. Nobody calls me Michael. I hate it. Please don’t call me that again.”

For once, Jack is vulnerable. Mike likes it that way. Jack stares down at the table. “Cristina and I are getting a divorce.”

Mike takes a choppy deep breath. He exhales. He takes a moment, they both do.

And then, “I’m sorry to hear that, Mr. Emerson.”

“Mike-”

Mike rises from his chair and looks at Jack, deep into his eyes. “I’m sorry that I have to go now but I do look forward to seeing you in court.”

“Jesus, Mike, can’t we just talk? Later? Dinner, how we used to before…”

“Before your wife walked in on you fucking me?”

A silence falls upon the room.

So then, Mike adjusts his suit jacket and closes his eyes for a beat. He looks out the glass doors to the rush of the firm, Harvey amidst it all, walking with Donna, catching a quick glimpse of he and Jack.

Then Mike looks down at Jack one last time. “Good day, sir.” 


	3. Day 2; Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Longgg Overdue, I know. But I'm back. So here's a very short update.

Harvey’s never known what it’s like to like an older man or woman. He’s always found himself on the other side of the stick with people seeing him as a potential sugar daddy more than anything else, quite obviously being enticed by his own age and wealth.

Until now, of course as he was (literally) backed into a corner by Doug Haven. Doug had phoned him and invited him over for drinks earlier and, well, Harvey had said yes.

What was he supposed to say? 

Doug had been the subject of half of his thoughts lately, the image of his crooked smile and dark long hair cozying itself into Harvey’s mind quite often. Then, he called. And Harvey couldn’t say no. All he could say was yes.

“You’re such a spoiled brat, Harvey. It seems that you get everything that pretty mouth of yours asks for.”

Harvey inhales. “That I do.”

Doug swishes the apricot liquer in his glass. He turns away from Harvey with a glint in his eye, burying a hand in his slacks. “You know, when my father first allowed me a drink, he gave me a liquer. My mother, of course, didn’t understand why and neither did I as most boys ‘round our parts would receive a beer or even a straight up brandy.”

Harvey watches Doug as he places the glass on the granite of his bar counter and turns back to face him, crossing his arms. “I looked to him to explain why he gave me this and he said to me that when it was the right time, I’d know why.”

“Has the right time come yet?”

Doug shrugs. “Maybe. Maybe not. Who even knows if there is a reason? Most likely he wanted to torture me as he always did. I was a child of many questions and concerns. He never answered them.”

“Sounds like a case of daddy issues.” Harvey’s mouth lifts at one side.

“When you think of it- him trying so desperately hard to never let me forget that of all his sons, I reigned the black sheep, I suppose it is unsettling.” He says, sighing deeply. “I guess the entire ordeal of gifting me what is seen as a woman’s drink was supposed to make me tremble and change what he didn’t like about me.”

“Gay.” Harvey says without a second thought.

Doug hums and picks the glass off the counter, pressing it to his lips. Taking a large sip, he shifts his head. “Bloody fool, instead he just gifted me my favorite drink.”

“Enough about silly me, though,” he says, turning his full attention back to Harvey. “I’m going to ask you something and it may not even be my place to. What’s eating you tonight, Harvey? You seem a bit distant.”

Harvey shifts, swallowing the saliva that built in his mouth. He was distant alright, although he tried so hard to give Doug his undivided attention. It just seemed that the hours before were stuck in his head, on a loop. He couldn’t shake the uneasiness on Mike’s face because, well, he’d never seen it before.

And God damn it, Harvey had seen all of Mike’s faces. He’d seen his nervous face, his excited face, his I-just-dug-myself-into-a-hole-can-you-help-me face, he’d seen it all. But not that. The way Mike looked today was something else Harvey couldn’t quite decipher.

The way Jack and Mike looked at each other, the way they spoke, that goddamn smug look on Jack’s face… Harvey didn’t know what to make of it. He wanted to ask Mike so badly. But he didn’t want to pry. It wasn’t any of his business anyway, it was obviously a private matter and if Mike didn’t want to share it with him then so be it. Harvey could be a good friend and let him have his space.

But then what if that wasn’t being a good friend? What if Mike wanted to tell him? What if Mike wanted to tell anyone?

“Ah.” Doug exhales. “What a story.”

Harvey furrows his eyebrows. “All I said was work issues.”

Doug grins. “Good lord, cant you take a joke, Specter?”

Harvey bursts into laughter and gives him a look. Doug sits on his couch and invites Harvey to join him. “I don’t mind if you don’t want to over share with me but I will say that I’ll listen if the pot is ever about to boil over.”

“I’m just… dealing with a situation. That’s all.” He looks at Doug out the corner of his eye.

“One that bothers you plenty.”

Harvey stares at him for a beat then shakes his head with a lazy grin. “I just.. I worry if I’ve made the right choice sometimes. I wonder if I ever do what’s right.”

Doug sighs deeply, crossing his legs. “You wouldn’t be the first man to question themselves, Harvey. And also, right and wrong are sometimes entirely subjective. What’s right to you may not be right to me but what I believe is right doesn’t matter. You’ve got to do what you feel is right.”

Sighing, he looks Doug in the eye. He was right. If he didn’t do what he thought was right, what was the use? Before he can speak again, Doug says, “You’re the best damn closer in New York right? So shut this goddamn thing that’s bothering you down, Specter. You’ve already got the answer. Fucking use it.”

 

And, use it he would. 

His eternal answer.

Donna picks up the phone after the fourth ring when Harvey’s palms are all sweaty and he was just about to hang up.

Her groggy voice comes through from the other end of the phone, uttering Harvey’s name. “God, isn’t it like 3am? Is everything okay?”

Harvey bites into his lip, hard enough to break skin. “Donna, I… I’m sorry to bother you so late.” After hearing a yawn, he continues. “I think something’s wrong with Mike. And I don’t know what to do. I’ve thought… fuck, Donna, I’ve thought about it and I don’t know what it is.”

“W-what? Harvey. Wait. What do you mean, something’s wrong with Mike?”

“I know him. Better than anyone and he’s not himself.”

Donna exhales and Harvey hears some sort of shuffling in the background. “Look, Harvey. I know that you and Mike are kind of attached at the hip but just because he’s a little distant… it doesn’t mean it’s cause for an emergency. I think the best thing you can do is give him a little space.”

A beat passes.

“I’ll see you at the office in the morning, okay? We’ll talk more about it then, for sure. That way I’ll be able to give you my full Donna face, attitude and input. No sleep, no crankiness, no deterred judgment.” She says, finally. “Get some rest, Harvey.” 

And that was it. 

Left alone in his apartment, Harvey looked out of the window, the voices of Doug and Donna running through his mind. On the one hand, Doug had a strong underlying point. If Harvey felt that asking Mike exactly what was up was the right thing to do, he should definitely do it.

Yet on the other hand, Donna had a point, too. Maybe Harvey was reading too deeply into things. Maybe Mike just needed time or space or whatever it was people needed when they were acting strange. Maybe he needed a goddamn therapist.

Oh. Yes! Why on earth didn’t Harvey think of this before? 

He’d heard Donna and Louis numerous times indulging in conversation he had no interest in, yet had to hear anyway since they were within earshot, about Louis’ own shrink, Dr. Lipschitz.

Even thought the guy’s name sounded like some sort of bad joke, he had to admit, Louis made him sound like the best thing since sliced bread. It was so obvious that Louis trusted this Dr. Lipschitz and Harvey hated to say it but if Louis trusted him, chances are the guy was pretty great.

Looking out at the city lights among the dark surroundings, Harvey decided exactly what he was going to do come the morning light.


End file.
